Dave the Laugh
by rainbowhannah
Summary: Who loves Dave the Laugh? We all do. It's a well-known fact. People who might like this story will be Grace, Kiran, Hatty, Cecily, Taya...Anyone who has read these loony books.
1. Default Chapter

Dave the Laugh's Birthday  
  
6:45, Sunday: Loonfest mode. Mon ami, or rather NOT mon ami (as the case may be) rang at 6:30 this morning.  
  
Vati got the phone and was in a vair vair sarkological mode. 'Georgia, it's one of your little friends. Quick, it's an emergency - I think she's broken a fingernail.' Sacre bloody-blues bleu. One day I shall set Angus on him.  
  
It was Double Loon Ellen lisping down the phone 'Georgia, Georgia, you know it's kind of-'  
  
'Ah oui. Dave the Laugh's Anniversary of Laughinosity. Ellen, you know it's a leetle bit early. In fact it's the crack of dawn, if you didn't realise.' Trying to hide my red bottom by changing the subjectosity, as it was still tingling from that long ago nip libbling at the fish party. At least my lovely scarlet bum-bum was not visible to the Quadruple Loon.  
  
'Well,' continued The Wet Loon, 'you know I'm kind of like...well sort of...Dave's girlfriend?' Zut alors, I'd be half as old as Vati (vair vair ancient) by the time Sergeant Loon finished.  
  
'Oui.'  
  
'Well...kind of...you know it's his party today...You know, sort of...Do I have a special position as his girlfriend. And...well...I've got a picture of me for him, but maybe, you know, aftershave. You know...that's what I heard...uh...you know?'  
  
I wouldn't have known what she was on about if you'd thumped Libby's Mr Potato Head at me.  
  
'Maybe...' Madame Lune continued. 'Well, you see, I'm not sure if we might get on to Number 3. Then it would show that my ungenerosity is very obviosity if I only gave him a photo as a present.'  
  
Well, I can understand that. Even Libby would prefer aftershave to a snappy snap of Loon City's Queen. 


	2. Chapter Two

10:30  
  
Finally, I laughed Super Loon away on a fast camel. Then I got tucked up with Libby and her 'fwends' (Libby looks so cute when she's asleep, like a baby turtle on cute tablets) and indulged in some sleepinosity.  
  
Then Vati was screaming at the furry loon in residence. 'Angus, you ungrateful lump, eat your breakfast. I made apple pie specially.'  
  
My Vati and Mutti, poor delusional loons, have decided to set up a catering company. They will bake, poach, roast, ice and arrange jelly diamonds and sell it all for a few measly pennies. The only thing the loons have overlooked is that they can't cook. Their speciality is cheese on toast.  
  
Throughout my impoverished childhood, I have been deprived of decent noshelosity. Instead of doing the decent thing, like other parents, they won't order takeaways or make chips. No, they insist that Libby, Angus and yours truly, eat carob muesli bars bought from the loon-run health food shop on the corner. Jas used to flirt with the dreadlocked loon behind the counter, before she found out that he offered her a sandwich, and she got all nervy spazzy. I reminded her of this while I was fastening a yellow spotty bow (stolen from Mr Potato) on Angus' furry neck.  
  
'Jas, mon ami stupide, you'll always have nightmares about healthy food now,' I warned. 'Just because of one marinated tofu and black seaweed sandwich. Angus, keep still. Stop barking. You are not a dog.'  
  
'Neither am I,' said Jas. She is so stupid. I know she is not a dog. No dog could stand having a fringe as annoying as hers. 'I am not a dog,' Loon Number Two looned on. 'So, you must understand that you can't tell me what to do, Georgia. In fact, I am a very healthy person.'  
  
'What in the name of Angus' furry bum-bum are you on about? You won the chocolate eating competition. You even beat Mr Laughy Dave,' I reminded her.  
  
'You musn't put me down, Georgia. We must choose our separate paths to reach enlightenment in this changing world.'  
  
'Mon ami, you've had an overdose of loon tablets,' I yelped, tweaking Angus' bow.  
  
'No, Georgia. I'm serious. Me and Tom are going to a Buddhist camp next weekend. We're not going to eat anything, except for maybe a few lentils and sesame seeds. You must not contact us. I feel that you weigh me down with your silliness about lip nibbling and so on.' What a cheek! Her and Tom are notorious nip libblers! Serial nip libblers! I was just about to explode with laughinosity, when the Loon tablet junkie continued. 'We will meditate under trees, and find the true meaning of life.' 


End file.
